


By Means of Natural Selection

by billtheradish



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Gen, background racism, if you're paying attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:10:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billtheradish/pseuds/billtheradish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why does all of this sound familiar, Warren?"</p><p>"Because it's my life?" he tried, grimacing when she gave him a flat look. "Okay, so maybe I just put some of the book examples into my own words. So what? It's all pretty much true."</p><p>"Maybe. If you were a two dimensional cut-out with no actual personality." Piper flicked her hand, offering him the far side of the paper. "Do it again. It needs to at least sound like you."</p><p>He huffed but took the page. Didn't even singe it.</p><p>It was going to be the whole name and branding assignment all over again. He could <i>feel</i> it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Means of Natural Selection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mythisea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythisea/gifts).



Warren was pretty sure most of the teachers used the same few students to tell when class was almost over. The scrape when a chair started to float, glowing eyes desperately trying to push the minute hand forward another notch, super-sonic jittering legs--

(Mr. Medulla had freeze-rayed Speed six times his sophomore year before they'd 'come to an agreement'. Which Warren only knew because he'd had Medulla the next period, and was tired of defrosting him after the first time. Jerk had bitched about singe marks for weeks.)

Ms. Piper didn't bother with anything so obvious. She just kept talking, the weight of her words getting a little heavier, picking up a bit of an echo, taking up the whole world until--

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, back to normal so fast Warren felt like reality was still trying to fit back into place. "Don't forget, your reports on epic battle do-and-don't's are due on Friday."

And the clock ticked over.

"Mr. Peace," Ms. Piper called out over the bell, idly holding down a stack of papers as one of the flyers zoomed out overhead. "A moment, if you don't mind?"

"Somebody's in trooouble," Paula singsonged in his ear from across the room. He ignored her. Whisper campaigns only worked if she found an edge, and she had gym next period. Wouldn't have enough time to breathe anyway.

He took his time packing up his notebook, tied his bootlaces neater while he waited for the busybodies to give up and get out before he walked up to Piper's desk. "Yeah?"

She snorted, smothering a laugh in her nose. "That's what I like about you, Warren. Your tact and charm."

He liked her willingness to deal with his crap. He knew his mom did too, for different reasons. 

"Seriously, though," she sighed, leaning forward to brace her elbows against the desk, fingers steepled for just a moment below her chin before she remembered to fold them. "We need to talk about your origin story."

"What? I turned it in, didn't I?" he huffed, shifting his weight to his other foot and trying to glare.

Piper quirked an eyebrow at him and pulled a sheet of paper out of one of her drawers. "Supervillain father, determined to do good in the world to pay back the harm he caused, not a fan of the spotlight because he doesn't feel he deserves recognition--why does all of this sound familiar, Warren?"

"Because it's my life?" he tried, grimacing when she gave him a flat look. "Okay, so maybe I just put some of the book examples into my own words. So what? It's all pretty much true."

"Maybe. If you were a two dimensional cut-out with no actual personality." Piper flicked her hand, offering him the far side of the paper. "Do it again. It needs to at least sound like you."

He huffed but took the page. Didn't even singe it.

It was going to be the whole name and branding assignment all over again. He could _feel_ it. Three months. Three goddamned months of drafts and eye rolling before she'd finally caved and let him get away with Vigilante, which was at least a description of what he figured was more likely than graduating and going on to a grand career of wearing tights.

"Warren," her voice stopped him just before he reached the door. It didn't feel like she was powering him. Not much, anyway. "Don't think I didn't notice that you kept anything actually personal out of that assignment. You didn't talk about your mother at all, or why your father matters."

The doorknob was starting to glow under his fingers, which was probably gonna suck for whoever had Piper next period. Too bad.

"That's good," Piper continued, surprising him into turning around. She wasn't looking at him, though. Staring at something on her desk, eyes hard. "Remember to protect the stuff that matters."

He didn't say anything. Didn't even think to move until she said "That's all. You should get to your next class."

\-----

He pitched the rejected assignment as soon as he got home. It was on his computer if he needed it, and Piper hadn't left him any helpful notes. Not really. Just frowny faces and arrows pointing at the pieces he'd maybe, possibly, lifted a little more directly from the textbook examples than he'd meant to. 

Whatever. The whole thing needed re-doing. That was all.

\-----

He stared at the blank document for about two hours before giving up and going to sleep.

(Okay, maybe it was closer to twenty minutes, and maybe his mom woke him up for dinner about half an hour later, but that was just details.)

\-----

The second time he tried to hand the assignment in, Piper had her head down laughing on the desk before she could have gotten more than a paragraph in.

She slid the paper back toward him, lifting her head to try and gasp out, "I meant sound like _you_ , not the coach reliving his glory days."

He picked the page up with a scowl and went ahead and burned it this time, like it deserved.

She'd always been after him to use more of the dramatic grammar and vocab they'd had rammed down their throats. He'd thought complying might make her a little more inclined to accept his lame attempt at a story.

\-----

The problem was that he didn't want to have an origin story. Didn't want to be in the spotlight, getting noticed. _Definitely_ didn't want to see himself on the news.

Turning in a project labeled 'This hero branding campaign cancelled due to a lack of hero' got him a laugh and a demand to do it over, because this was Sky High and _everyone_ wanted a career in the business, right?

\-----

The thing was, he _knew_ how important having a plan for that stuff was.

They'd named his mother The Dragon, because of a photo from the beginning of her crime fighting career. She'd been frozen in place, and the villain (Frostbite, he thought, but the names blended together after a while) had stepped in close to taunt her.

She'd blown fire in his face.

It hadn't killed him, but it had resulted in a striking photo for the news to latch onto. The Dragon Woman, Dragon Lady, The Dragon.

She'd never been able to escape it. She got used to it eventually, said it was better to be known as a fire breather for defeating a villain than the half hour she'd spent after that, trying to thaw herself out.

Still. He remembered the banked fire in her eyes when a headline talked about Baron Battle and his pet dragon.

\-----

"This is more like it," Piper grinned, stroking a nail down the page. "There's the cranky, angry, anti-hero I knew was lurking in there."

Warren rolled his eyes and didn't bother correcting her. He'd already lost that assignment. "Whatever. Do I pass?"

"With an A," she smirked, tucking the page into her files. "And in under a month this time. I sense improvement."

\-----

**Origin: Vigilante**

Son of a superhero turned supervillain, Vigilante really just wants people to leave him alone so he can do his job without distractions. He grew up with the aftermath of his parents' actions, both noble and notorious, weighing on him constantly and seeks to improve the world because of it.

End of story. That's all there is to it. You don't need to know anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally defaulted because I thought the deadline was 10 pm PST, not 10 am. I suck. Sorry, admins!
> 
> This is a lot choppier and bare bones than I'd wanted. If I ever have the time and energy, I might come back and expand this. I've discovered I have a lot of thoughts about Warren's background that just didn't fit in here.
> 
> I hope there's enough of it in here to make Mythisea happy, though. =)


End file.
